Memories of Cookies
by Rocky T
Summary: Neelix commemorates an anniversary


_Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager and all of its characters are the property of Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Story Notes: Neelix commemorates an anniversary._

_Time Frame: Early in the 6th season (well before "Fury" was even a gleam in TPTB eyes)_   
  
  
  


**MEMORIES OF COOKIES**

I wipe my hands on a towel, taking a last look around at the galley to make sure everything is put away for the night. A pot of coffee sits on the back of the stove, keeping warm, for the captain's usual late night visit. Dinner is long since over; the last of the Alpha shift has left and it will be a few hours until the night shift comes in for their meal. 

My comm badge signals just as I am about to remove my apron. "Neelix here." 

"Hi, Neelix. It's Samantha." 

I respond, "Yes, what can I do for you?" 

"Naomi and I were wondering if you'd like to join us for a game of kadis-kot before bedtime?" 

I smile and shake my head, then remember that they can't see me. "Sorry, but I've got other plans for the evening. Perhaps another time." 

Sam's surprise is evident in her voice. "Oh. All right then." 

Suddenly concerned, I say, "I hope Naomi won't be too disappointed." 

"No, not at all." She pauses. "It was my idea, actually. I thought maybe you would appreciate the company." 

It's my turn to pause. Did Sam mean because of what day it was? I had thought I was the only who remembered. Maybe Tuvok commemorated it in his own private way, some Vulcan ritual he would not share with outsiders, but I had been pretty sure I was the only one who had noted that it was the anniversary of the day Kes left us. 

The day she left _Voyager_, that is. There had been no 'us' for a long time before. 

Sam is speaking again. "Well, I hope you have a pleasant time. Good night." 

"Good night," I answer, then put my apron away. I reach into the stasis unit and take out a canister of terranut cookies I'd baked that morning. They had been placed in a far corner, where they wouldn't be noticed. I take a few cookies, about to put them on a plate, then shrug and take the whole container. It had been a relatively small batch; I feel no qualms about depriving the crew of this delicacy. I am not oblivious to their occasional comments about my cooking. The captain once tried to explain it away as the difference between the human and Talaxian palate, especially when it comes to certain flavors and textures. But I really didn't need her apology. A major part of these people's desire for exploration is to seek out new experiences. Perhaps they didn't have leola root in mind, but it doubtless does them good to be exposed to other forms of cuisine. And their comments usually don't extend to desserts, particularly sweet ones. 

I tuck the container under my arm, remember to lower the lights in the Mess Hall, and set out toward the aeroponics bay. 

There isn't a part of the ship that doesn't remind me of Kes; I suppose that makes sense as we came on board together. There are still times that I'm walking through the corridors and catch myself turning to her, expecting to see her by my side, especially late at night when the lights are dimmed and memories become more than shadows of reality. I went through a similar process after I lost my family on Rynax. I kept on seeing Alixia out of the corner of my eye, and would turn suddenly, as if I could catch a fuller glimpse of her, if I was only faster. 

But of all the spots on _Voyager_, the place where I feel Kes's presence the most is in the aeroponics bay. So typical of my sweeting, to take a cold, bare metallic chamber and turn it into a vibrant, lush area, teeming with life. It reminds me of the first time I ever saw Kes, a delicate desert bloom in the midst of the squalor of the harsh Kazon encampment. I think I fell in love with her as soon as I laid eyes on her, not just for her physical beauty, but for the beauty of spirit and strength of character she showed. For her I would have risked all I had and more. I smile to myself as I recall how I did exactly that. I am grateful to Captain Janeway for her countless kindnesses over the years, but most of all because she helped me rescue Kes. 

By myself, I don't know if I would have asked to join the 'Federations' on their long journey. Not that I had much to give up by doing so. My home and family were long since gone and I was barely eking out a living among the dust clouds and junk heaps of space. I had no purpose, really. I did no harm, but no good either. All that changed when I met Kes. For her I would have traveled much farther distances. 

I sit down on a bench in the far corner, near my favorite plant. It's a hybrid Kes created early on, a small slender bush, barely half a meter high. It blossoms twice a year, becoming covered in fragile, yet lovely, gold and white flowers. For all its delicate appearance, the plant displays a surprising tenacity. It can go without water, without adequate light, for extended periods of time. But it perseveres and rewards care with such outstanding beauty, a beauty that in my mind rivals even the Terran roses the captain is so fond of. 

I close my eyes and inhale the scent. It brings back so many memories. Kes stepping on the transporter pad, eager and excited to be going off on an away mission. Kes in Sickbay, her voice and touch the only lifeline to cling to while I hovered close to death due to our encounter with the Vidiians. Kes holding Sam's hand through labor and then attempting to comfort her for her loss. Kes in my quarters listening to me rail about the crew's propensity for exploration and investigation constantly getting us into dangerous situations and her silencing me with an embrace: "I've never kissed anyone inside a nebula before." Kes… I loved her so desperately, so completely. Maybe too much. 

I've had too many losses in my life. They've made it hard for me to relax and enjoy what I have, the here and now. I know I tend to cling too hard, love too possessively. Perhaps that's what happened with Kes. We were happy, at least at the beginning. But then she began to drift away. And the more freedom she needed, the harder I held on, until I was left holding nothing at all. 

Perhaps some of it came out of my doubts, my worries that Kes and I weren't really meant to be a couple, that others may have been better for her, or more appropriate. Tom Paris, for example. Or even Tuvok, who worked with her to harness the powers of the mind. What did I have to offer in comparison--"Sweeting, would you like to watch me whip up a batch of terranut cookies?" I even suspected the Doctor at one point of harboring more than just a platonic or paternal interest in Kes--imagine being jealous of a hologram. 

Regardless of what drove us apart, I have trouble putting my finger on just precisely when our relationship ended. Kes never said anything overtly until her possession by the warlord Tieran--but I thought it was just the alien talking. However, when that episode was over, when Kes was more or less back to herself, it was never the same between us. 

Maybe it was the older problem--Kes's eagerness to explore while I just wanted to be safe and secure. And happy. I wonder sometimes if Kes had stayed with me longer than she might have, out of habit, out of concern for hurting my feelings, while all the while feeling she'd outgrown me. I know she was grateful to me for saving her from the Kazon, but gratitude isn't enough to keep a relationship going. So when we encountered the Travelers and Kes seriously considered going with them, I smiled and kept my hurt inside. The last thing I wanted to do was hold her back, prevent her from following her dreams, even when mine had crumbled around me. 

Kes's last few months on _Voyager_ were remarkable for how much she grew and changed. I hadn't given much thought to the short Ocampan lifespan earlier. Of course, I knew that despite her mature appearance, Kes was only a year old when I first met her, and could only be expected to live another eight or so. But somehow I hadn't thought of how accelerated those years would be, packing in so many experiences and developments in such a short time. Once again, Kes was outstripping me, outstripping all of us. 

It's ironic that the only time we ever came close to discussing what had happened to our relationship was right before she left. I still remember that evening so clearly. We were the only two people in the Mess Hall, and I brought out two glasses of moon-ripened Talaxian champagne, Kes's favorite. The last time we'd shared this drink was when we first came on board _Voyager_, three years earlier. Then we'd toasted each other, "To the adventure." We repeated those words now, as it was obvious that Kes stood poised on the brink of a new adventure, an experience that none of us could imagine. 

She was excited, of course. I could see that look in her eye, that sparkle that I so loved. But there was also a hint of regret in her expression. 

"I know things haven't worked out exactly the way we planned," she said, turning to me. 

I was startled that she even brought up the topic, but put a good face on it, as always. "I was only holding you back; that's obvious to me now." 

"No," she insisted. Kes would never willingly hurt anyone, would rather resort to half-truths instead. "I couldn't have come this far without you. And I love you. I always will. It's just that…" 

I could feel my heart breaking at her words. The distant echo of long ago passion in her voice was too hard to bear. And the last thing I wanted was her pity. So I slipped into my standard role of Neelix, the comic relief, Neelix the morale officer, so concerned with keeping up everyone's spirits except his own. "My cooking--you've always hated my cooking." 

She hesitated for a moment, then decided to go along with the joke, take the easy way out. "Yes, that's exactly what it was." 

And we never got a chance to broach the topic again. I will forever be left with questions for which I have no answers. But perhaps it doesn't matter any more. 

Kes left just hours later, fearing that her evolution would endanger _Voyager_. As a parting gift, she flung the ship forward thousands of light years, shortening our journey to the Alpha Quadrant by ten years, as well as removing us from the initial vicinity of Borg space. 

Now two years later, life has gone on. We've been through a number of harrowing experiences, seen death and devastation all around. But still we persevere. Every member of this crew has grown and changed. Relationships have blossomed, friendships deepened. Even I…but I wonder sometimes if I have truly gone on with my life. I have formed no real new attachments; I have plenty of friends and people who count me as one, but there is no one with whom I can truly share my heart and soul. Not like I did with my sweeting. 

Two years later, Kes, when she is remembered at all, is consigned to the group of others we've lost on this journey, whose memory fades over time until all that's left is a name. She did not die, but she is so far removed from our plane of existence that she may as well be dead to us. But on this night, I choose to remember her, allow myself to wonder where she is, what she is doing. I hope wherever it is, she is happy. I think she is; that's the only way I can envision her, delighting in each new experience as it comes. 

I open the container in my hand, remove a cookie. I bite into it, feeling the rich flavors on my tongue. And once again I am lost in a flood of memories.   
_FINIS_

  
Back to Rocky's Road 

e-mail the author   
  
  
  



End file.
